


R E D

by Esasel



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Adult!Rin - Freeform, Child Abandonment, Comfort?, Drama & Romance, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, First Kiss, Gentleness, Growing Up, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Lies, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Virginity, Love/Hate, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious Sesshoumaru, Sad love, Touch-Starved, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Lust, Unresolved Emotional Tension, at first, conflicted - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25153456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esasel/pseuds/Esasel
Summary: .No, Lord Sesshomaru does not suspect her as the petals of the cherry trees snow them in chastity, and he does not suspect her as the swollen breath of summer sighs love through the strands of his hair -She buries her face in the crook of his neck, slings her arms around his chest, grabs the statue of his shoulders like she could carve him. Like she could truly touch him deeper than his eternal skin would ever allow her too soft fingers to reach..
Relationships: Rin/Sesshoumaru (InuYasha)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	R E D

The Demon Lord, without intenting to, has taught a little girl how to prowl. The Miko with her age and herbs then, possibly by accident, taught a blooming woman how to growl. Rin might just have become the most she-dog she could ever hope to be. No mortal man has touched her yet unbidden, yet she touched them all, she would swear, in the shadowed alleys between dark and drink.

"Shut up", she'd scold another one with a hefty slap across his leering face, herself as sober as the backwall of just another shack. And if her Lord in the crisp morning air could eat the bitter tang of a still damping heart as if it was fruit, slain the monstrous prey at his feet, so would Rin well be able to swallow some nasty peasant cock in the secret of the night. Because at night Rin hunts and learns the bodies of men, where pleasure brims and abandon begins. If ever one tries to push her legs apart he'll get a kick in the nuts and she'll be off, snarling and swift like the wild child all of the village knows her to be.

Anyway.

She doesn't care for them. This Rin takes them apart. There are these things she needs to understand.

One week ahead of each full moon the drunkards will be waiting for her investigations in vain. Then the Miko's apprentice scrubs herself in baths of lemongrass for seven evenings on end to get rid of all the drunkard stink she has accumulated, because, sometimes, with the full moon comes Lord Sesshomaru.

There are these things she needs and hides from him.

As he will sit across from her, as he would in the end, he _would_ , in their meadow down the hill, Rin can and can't believe it; he is pure. Untouched. In this and his feral form. Not near human enough to understand lust, never long enough beast to fall for a bitch in heat.

No, Lord Sesshomaru does not suspect her as the petals of the cherry trees snow them in chastity, and he does not suspect her as the swollen breath of summer sighs _love_ through the strands of his hair. He doesn't know human desire well enough to smell it out. Her Sesshomaru does not suspect His Rin to want her name a moan like dew quivering upon his lip.

Would he be wed one day, trust his demon instinct to take over if he'd ever need an heir? Has no one taught him how it's done? Oh, Rin grows frustrated nowadays whenever Inu Yasha enters the picture and her Lord cannot be bothered to even muse how his Hanyo brother would've been begot had his own father not crossed the line from nature to purpose.

He isn't all that different from her, and sometimes she wants to shout at him to know as much.

But Sesshomaru is still so young. He didn't think of anything but his father's approval, his father's heirloom, his father's other, other son who did get both combined – a love that he wanted blindly. _Blindly_. For most of the time she has known him, he was a jealous boy in the sculpted body of a man.

In secret, she has the strong guess that he wouldn't even have discovered how to touch himself in the hundreds of years he has been playing children's games, and she gathered valid proof material of this, her favorite secret, as well.

It was years later, later when he had long put her into the little village, oh his little girl that he thought fit so good into that little hut with a little old wench and a lot of herbs, _flowers,_ he must have assumed, hanging from the ceiling to dry. It was when she started to wander off into the forest alone and learned to rub the juicy flesh of ripe plums between her legs until she felt like screaming.

She served them plums the next time that he visited, and he ate. He eats casually in her presence nowadays, and he refrains from raw meat (which she proudly knows he prefers), maybe to please her.

He had no clue how much he did when he idly licked that dripping slice of plum.

“Lord Sesshomaru”, she began slyly, but her blush, it was so honest that she stuttered into it, “as I am growing, I feel like I know less and less. Please, tell me is it normal that I touch myself?”

Clearly, he thought her very dumb. Of course you'd touch yourself sometimes. He just did when he pushed his moon spun hair behind his delicate and otherworldy pointed ear.

He told her as much in much less words, and she could and couldn't _believe_ him.

But it had occurred to her that there are inherent advantages even a mortal could hold above one born as exalted as him. It had occurred to her on the day that she'd asked him about the colour of blood. She asked from the mouth of a simple child then, from the mind of a hungry explorer, and he did not suspect her at all.

"The color of blood is the color of ashes", he determined and thought he'd taught her wisely.

"And your clothes, My Lord? And your beautiful markings?"

"Blood and ashes."

Lady Kagome had told This Rin that dogs cannot see red, chuckling behind her hand because, apparently, Inu Yasha has no idea what he is wearing all the time.

He just doesn't see what is so obvious to her.

Where there is failure to perfection, the perfect becomes attainable, more so, wildly desirable all of a sudden. It frightened Rin at first. It thrilled her without warning. But even though she would never deny that the day she found him wounded in that forest was the day she began to love him with the whole of her young heart, now that she knows these things he doesn't, she _desires_ him. And how would he know, unable to differ the ripe blood burning under her skin from long cold ashes, how could he ever suspect her to ache for his skin?

She doesn't want to be touched by him, no. She doesn't want to feel like he does to appease her. This Rin wants her Sesshomaru himself undone.

One sweltry evening that is a heavy breath around, between them, heavy as the needing, pushing song of the cicada, this evening she dares to think that maybe she has learned enough to bring him down. She licks her lips, imagines to taste the syrup of the rarest flower ever to bloom. And he must feel her eyes as different eyes on him all of a sudden, and the sheen of sweat on his warm lids flashes as instinct has him meet the bold predator's eyes- but it is only her that sits before him, only His little Rin.

Faltering, she almost feels as if his heart could be as naked as is hers. She nearly reaches out to find it throbbing under the collar of his kimono, loose with his armour shed. But Her Lord Sesshomaru has never been a creature to be held.

He stands, and summer could moan for him to stay through the wintry strands of his hair. He has decided, he takes his leave, and only the fragile promise of another full moon lingers bitterly on the tip of Rin's silent tongue.


End file.
